


The Bouncer and Sherlock's Personal Doctor

by RavenWhitecastle



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: BBC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:00:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWhitecastle/pseuds/RavenWhitecastle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Please don't sue me, but the dialogue is pretty much a rip-off of Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark. Basically, replace Sherlock and John with Indie and Marion, and you have what I just wrote. Or at least the part with "Where doesn't it hurt?" is. Everything up to that point is original material.<br/>Sherlock got a little forward while investigating a case and gets clocked pretty good. Good thing he lives with a doctor. FLUFF WARNING.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bouncer and Sherlock's Personal Doctor

Sherlock coughed and winced. The big thug in front of Mahoney's Casino had done a number on him, and Sherlock felt like he'd been danced on all over by one of the strippers. His head was pounding obnoxiously, and he was fairly certain he'd broken more than one rib. Cautiously, he touched the cut on his lip and winced, sucking a breath through his teeth.  
John walked into the parlor from the kitchen with a damp rag and a bag of ice. "Put this on your head," he said, holding out the ice.  
Sherlock took it from his place on the couch and gingerly placed it on the lump that was forming where the bouncer had whacked him with the velvet rope. Who knew that one piece of rope could be so heavy and hurt so much?  
John carefully prepared some bandages for his ribs. "You know, you need to stop getting yourself hurt."  
"Oh, really?" he sneered. "And how else would I solve any cases?"  
John rolled his eyes. "Oh, I don't know, maybe by asking questions? Investigating like an ORDINARY detective?"  
Sherlock's response was immediate. "Ordinary is dull."  
"Um, yes, and a bit less painful."  
"I'd rather be in pain than ordinary." Sherlock pouted like a little kid who'd been told he couldn't go out with his friends. "Besides," he reasoned, "I have my own private doctor living in my flat. It's not like I'm paying any fees for it."  
"Unless I start charging you," John said. "I could make a good bit of money helping you. At this rate, I could pay off the rent without even blinking." With that, John tenderly put the wet rag to the cut on Sherlock's lip, wiping away the blood.  
"Ow!" Sherlock yelped.  
"Sorry," John whispered. Putting the rag on the coffee table, he picked up the bandages and gestured for Sherlock to pull his shirt up. "Lift," he said.  
Sherlock tried, painfully slow, to get his hands under the hem of his purple shirt, but the fire that went through him was too much. Arms collapsing at his sides, he whimpered, "I can't."  
John rolled his eyes and started unbuttoning the shirt. "Be careful," Sherlock reprimanded him. It was his favorite shirt, and if John got any blood on, Sherlock swore he would...  
"OUCH!" Sherlock yelled as John tugged the sleeves over his arms. "That hurts!"  
"Well, what do you WANT me to do, leave it so it gets worse and you die an old and disabled cripple?!"  
Sherlock eased the shirt off and let it fall to the floor. He wondered if Mrs. Hudson would take it to the drycleaner's for him.  
John started wrapping the bandages around Sherlock's torso to set the ribs, assuring that they would heal correctly. His hand gently guided the fabric behind Sherlock, and he deftly taped it, pressing in with his thumb to make the bandage stick.  
"GAH!" Sherlock winced in pain. "DON'T! DO! THAT!" He groaned as the ache in his rib subsided.  
"Goddamnit Sherlock!" John snapped, "Is there any place it DOESN'T hurt?!"  
Sherlock pointed to his knee. "Here."  
Watson's expression softened, and he leaned down, tenderly kissing Sherlock on the knee. "Anywhere else?" he whispered.  
Sherlock pointed to his left shoulder. "Here."  
John kissed his shoulder gently.  
Sherlock cautiously pointed to his lips. "Here."  
With a playful smile, John kissed him. Sherlock moaned with pleasure, closing his eyes and putting a lanky hand on John's back.  
John slowly pulled away, a pleased smirk playing over his face. "Now," he said, "Let's get you fixed up."  
Sherlock laughed. "I would like that." He thought about it for a second. "Actually, I would LOVE that."  
John looked down at the floor. "I would too."


End file.
